When My Days Are Done
by foreverafangirl93
Summary: "You always put me first." His breath hitches, as he tries to look up at his brother, "your whole life." It's not much, but it's all he has time for. He hopes Dean gets it. His eyes drift shut. - Tag to Episode 14x17. SPOILERS.
1. Chapter 1: Sam

14x17 Episode Tag.

AN: I couldn't help myself. Sorry if it's crappy, literally wrote it in thirty minutes after the show aired.

When My Days Are Done

It's not the way he thought he'd go out. Then again, he's sort of running out of ways to die considering how often he tends to do it.

His breathing is shallow and his brother is starting to become giant blur above him, telling him to count with him. It's an old trick their father used to do with them when they were badly injured to try to get their mind off of the fact that they were gravely injured. He tries, he does, but words are starting to be come difficult. Hell, _breathing_ is starting to become difficult. His vision is blurring at the edges and he knows.

He's dying. For real this time.

He can hear Billie's words in his head on a loop.

_What lives . . . dies. So the next time you or your brother bite it, well, you're not going to Heaven . . . Or Hell. One of us - and, Lord, I hope it's me - we're gonna make a mistake and toss you out into the Empty. And nothing comes back from that._

He's not scared of dying. He hasn't been for a while, but he knows what it's like to be the other brother in this situation. He knows Dean's barely holding it together right now. So, Sam realizes what he has to do. What he hopes he has the strength left to do.

"You always put me first." His breath hitches, as he tries to look up at his brother, "your whole life." It's not much, but it's all he has time for. He hopes Dean gets it. His eyes drift shut.

"ok, alright, come on… just count with me." Dean pauses, realizing what's happening and not knowing how the day turned out the way it has, "Sammy?" He asks, hesitantly, then, more aggressively, "SAM!"

Sam feels the cold seep into his bones. Feels himself start to slip away. He barely registers the feeling of something hitting his cheeks and then… there's nothing.

Then, suddenly there's air where there hadn't been before. He gasps, sitting straight up.

He's alive. He looks around, eyes still slightly blurry.

"Nick! Where's Nick?" Sam asks, the words bursting out of him of their own accord.

Jack assures him that Nick has been taken care of and that their mother is fine. Sam nods, hearing the words but looking as if he's not really comprehending. He leans against the car that's been his home for so long and looks up at his brother, who can't seem to stop looking at him like he's going to disappear at any minute. Sam can't say he blames him. He _feels_ like he's going to disappear at any minute.

"I should really get back to her." Jack admits, "Your mother."

Sam nods, still on the ground, looking around as if a little lost.

"Right. Yeah." Dean nods, "Jack?"

Jack looks up at Dean, "Yeah?"

Dean's throat clogs with emotion, "Thank you."

Jack nods and then he's gone.


	2. Chapter 2: Dean

AN: Hi everyone! Thank you so so much for all the kind words and support on this tag to 14x17. It really means a lot. I saw a review where someone suggested that I do the episode from Dean's point of view… so I figured I'd try my hand at it. Hope you like it!

When All My Days Are Done: Part 2

Donatello's exactly where Nick said he would be, but that doesn't mean Dean wastes any time making his way to the older man. He tries hard to not think about the fact that he left Sam with a psychopath, but knows if Nick makes one wrong move… hell, it's like what he told Sam earlier. If Nick so much as _looks_ at his brother even slightly funny, Sam will waste him in a heart beat.

Ignoring those thoughts for the moment, he moves quickly into the room where the prophet of the lord is tied to a pole. Dean scans him for signs of injury and when he finds none, he moves to the back of the pole, slicing through the ropes holding the man to it. He moves around just as Donatello is removing the rag out of his mouth.

He crouches down to remove the remaining rope from around Donatello's upper body when he suddenly gets a chill. The feeling of 'something isn't quite right' washing over him. Ignoring Donatello's look, he stands up, reaching for his knife just in time to see an angel fly through the window. He doesn't manage to put his hands on the weapon as the angel goes straight towards him. Punches are thrown, some dodged and some that Dean knows he's going to feel tomorrow. Right about when Dean thinks it's about to be game over, Angel 0 Dean 1, he hears the opening of a door behind him and another angel comes rushing out. He has to stop himself from groaning out loud.

He continues fighting the angel that came out of the window right as a huge ass bald man comes at him from behind. He knocks out the one skinny one before moving to work on killing the bald angel. They wrestle, exchanging blows before Dean hits him once more on the head and then throwing him to the floor like a rag doll. Just as he does, the other one pops back up and starts back in on him.

"Come on, man!" Dean growls, dodging a poorly executed punch and pulling his hand back to land a couple of punches on the angel's face, "Just… _die_…already…"

He shoves the angel away and he falls to the floor. He grabs his angel blade right as the bald angel stands up. The angel knocks the blade right out of his hand, causing him to huff in annoyance. The fighting continues until there's a slight pause. He's managed to knock both angels to the ground and is just about to stab both of them with the angel blade when Dean pauses, hearing a loud blare from outside.

The car horn.

Sam's in trouble.

Time to end this, Dean thinks, heart pounding anxiously. He tries not to think about what's going on outside as he shuffles with the bald angel until he's suddenly being rushed backwards. The bald angel holds the blade above him. Dean fights to hold him off, struggling a bit as the angel blade gets closer and closer to his chest. Finally, Dean gets the upper hand, literally, and manages to push back. He steals the blade back and stabs the angel in the chest. Annoyed by how long this took, he shoves the angel back right as he dies out. He glances at the other angel who is a mess on the floor. He goes over there and stabs it with the blade just to be certain.

He stands up and glances around the room right as the car horn blares again. Shit.

"Come on," He barks, running out of the room without so much as a backwards glance at the prophet.

Dean withdraws his knife as he exits the room, the car horn still blaring as he walks on the cat walk before rushing down the stairs. He runs the entire way towards the car, breath coming out in short spats and can practically hear his brother berating him for not running as often to prevent said out of breath moments.

"Bitch." Dean mutters to himself as he nearly slips on the snow. He rights himself quickly before continuing.

The reminder of said annoying little brother makes him run faster.

He finally makes it to the yellow barrier where they parked the Impala. His heart races as he gets close enough to the car to look into it. Nobody's in the front or back seats. He keeps moving once he realizes the driver's door is wide open.

"Dean!" He hears his brother yell right as he moves around the car. What Dean sees nearly makes him freeze in terror.

Sam's on the ground, blood pouring out of his head and gasping like he can't find any air.

The sight of his brother hurt so badly actually does makes him pause. Just for a moment, because… how the hell did they end up here? It was supposed to be _game night_ last night, for crying out loud. A day of normalcy. A day of safety.

None of this was supposed to happen.

"Sam!" He yells, desperately, instantly dropping his knife and dropping to the ground next to Sam. His hands hover over his brother as he tries to take in the situation.

His wide eyes glance over Sam's injuries. This is bad. This is really, _really_ bad.

Dean swallows back the fear, keeping a hand on his brother's chest as he glances around in search of Nick. He would really love nothing more at this moment than to shoot the bastard right in the face, but when he doesn't see him, he turns his attention back towards his brother.

Sam's still gasping, eyes barely open and Dean's hand tightens his hold on his brother's chest. He's got to _do_ something. He fumbles for his phone that's in his jacket pocket with his left hand, muttering cuss words under his breath when it gets caught. He finally manages to get it out and dials 9-1-1 with a shaking hand, never once letting go of Sam.

"My brother… my brother got attacked." Dean's voice is hoarse, wincing as Sam groans again on the ground in pain. He's rocking side-to-side, little motions in attempt to stop the pain he's in or to keep himself awake. The latter makes Dean's blood run cold in fear. He rattles off the address to the operator, cussing out loud when they tell him that it's going to be 20 minutes.

Dean's no doctor, but Sam doesn't _have_ 20 minutes. He may not even have 10.

He hangs up, letting the phone fall to the ground.

He runs a shaking hand down his face before refocusing on the issue at hand. The odds are stacked against them, but what else is new? He hears someone come up behind him and barely looks back to realize that it's just Donatello. Sam grunts again, curling onto his right side. He reaches up to hold his head, but Dean intercepts him.

"Woah, no touching." Dean says, pushing Sam's hands back to his side. Sam merely groans back at him, breathing hitching for a moment before resuming.

"You're ok. You're gonna be alright, I promise." Dean says soothingly, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezing. The blood from Sam's head wound keeps dripping and Dean knows he's got to get that stopped if there's any chance…well, if there's any chance. Stopping that line of thought instantly, he begins looking around for something to put against Sam's head wound. Coming up with nothing, he quickly moves to the Impala.

"Don't…don't go…" Sam mutters, but Dean hears him nonetheless as he searches the front seat for something, _anything_ to help stop the bleeding. He can't find anything that would remotely help and suddenly he remembers that Sam had been bitching about cleaning the car out earlier that week. Of all the times for Sam's OCD…Dean shakes his head, frustrated.

"I'm not, buddy. I swear to God, I'm never leaving you again." The words fall out of his mouth as he frantically opens the glove box, removing everything in it until he finally finds an old, blue rag in the glove box. It'll have to do. He doesn't even bother slamming the glove box closed before rushing back out and falling to his knees. He looks down at Sam, who has moved back onto his back and looks up at Dean through blurry, but trusting eyes. It makes Dean clench his jaw, but he says, gently, "This is going to smart, kiddo."

He puts it on Sam's head and the pained noises that come out of his brother's mouth make him want to scream in agony right there with him.

"I know, I know, Sammy." He says gently, hand shaking as he presses the napkin to his brother's head, because he _can't_ scream right now. He can't lose his cool. He has to be strong. For Sam. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry."

When the pain subdues, not a lot, but enough that Sam isn't crying out in agony, his eyes refocus and he looks up, "Dean….not…not your fault."

Dean gives him a watery grin, "Kinda is… I left you with a psycho."

Sam lets out a soft laugh, "I can…hold my own… you should see… the other guy."

Dean barks out a laugh that's borderline hysterical, "Right, yeah… remind me the next time I see him to shoot him in the face. 5 times minimum."

Sam huffs, but doesn't say anything else. Time moves too fast after that. Dean calls his mom, tells her that something's happened… something bad. He tells her about the ambulance and watches his brother as he talks. Sam's no longer rocking on the ground in attempt to self soothe. He's just staring up at the sky, then at Dean, then back at the sky. His eyes can't focus on any one thing for longer than a second and Dean doesn't even want to think about what that means.

He hangs up with his mom and moves a little closer to Sam, never once taking his eyes off of him. His face is practically devoid of any color and his breathing is even shitter than it was a few minutes ago.

Dean gets in Sam's line of vision, working hard to keep his worry from showing, "Hey…come on, stay with me now. We're just gonna play a little game. We're gonna count, ok?" Dean says and Sam's breath is one long gasp. "One…two…"

There's silence as Sam struggles to do what Dean's asking of him.

"Two..." Sam breathes out and Dean grins, knowing how much effort that took and feeling so damn proud of his brother. Of his _kid. _He may be an overgrown, salad-eating weirdo, but that's his _kid_ lying there with a head wound and barely being able to get any air.

"There you go… three…"

Sam struggles even more to take in air, his eyelids falling to slits. Dean's jaw clenches painfully as his brother fights to keep his eyes open. Sam says, "You… you always put me first…."

Dean hushes him, not wanting to hear goodbye. Not wanting to _say_ goodbye.

"Come on… come on, man." Dean says, desperately. He doesn't know how long they've been there, but it feels like both a lifetime and just a few minutes all at the same time.

"Your whole life…" Sam mutters, eyes rolling around in his head.

"Ok… alright… Come on, just count with me…" Dean says right as Sam's eyes flutter closed, "Sammy?" Dean moves his hand to shake Sam's face as he says, aggressively, "Sam!"

Dean shakes Sam's face a couple more times to no avail. He's not sure if Sam's gone or if he's just passed out. He waits, watching for his brother's chest to rise. When it doesn't, that's when he starts to lose his shit. That also happens to be the moment when Jack appears.

"Dean?"

Dean looks up, saying nothing. He can't.

Jack looks down at one of his father figures and his face crumbles as he rushes forward, "Sam!"

Dean doesn't say a word, just watches as Jack puts his hand on Sam's forehead. Within seconds, the blood washes away and Sam's eyes burst open as he gasps for air. Dean stares in shock as his brother, who he thought was dead… _again_… is suddenly full of life. _Again_. Sam pushes himself into a sitting position and Dean instantly stands up and out of the way. Dean watches Sam until he can't anymore. He turns away, letting the rush of emotions he had been pushing back overtake him. Just for a second.

_Sam died_. He was gone. Forever. In the empty. Dean feels his stomach start to church at the same time Sam asks about Nick. Jack tells him that Nick's taken care of and Dean turns back around, barely holding it together, but not wanting to take his eyes off Sam any longer.

Sam glances around, confusedly and Dean stares at his brother as if memorizing every line on his face. As if he's going to disappear any second. Sam's voice is shaking as he asks, "What about Mom?"

"She's…fine. Everything's going to be fine."

There's a slight pause while Sam catches his breath, leaning against the Impala.

"I should really get back to her." Jack finally says, "Your mother."

Sam nods, still on the ground. Still looking around as if a little lost. Dean moves a little closer to his brother, wanting to reassure himself and Sam that everything's fine now. Sam is _fine_.

"Right. Yeah." Dean finally looks away from Sam to look at the young Nephilim, "Jack?"

Jack looks up at Dean, "Yeah?"

Dean's throat clogs with emotion, putting as much feeling as he can into what he says next, "Thank you."

Jack nods and then he's gone.


End file.
